“Yes-”
“She was pushing you… she nearly pushed you the wrong way. And, Christ, look at you! And those bloody dogs, tearing you to pieces.” His voice was rough, unsteady. “She’ll do it again. She’ll be after you-”
“Yes, and I had to watch her put her hands on you, drink from you, Max. I saw it, saw the look in your eyes.”
“And she’ll be after me again… and again. And she’ll use you, Victoria. She’ll use you to get to me.”
“I don’t care. Max, after what happened… what happened between us-”
He reared away from her at that, literally took two steps back. “Don’t be a bloody fool. I told you we needn’t mention it to anyone and we won’t. Vioget need not know.”
“He already does.”
“Then I’m sorry for him, but it won’t matter. The man is so damned infatuated with you, you could put him last in the line of your lovers and he’d not care.”
“And you don’t?”
“No.”
She took a step toward him. “You’re lying.”
“Victoria, you’ll do nothing but cause your own bloody embarrassment if you keep on this route.”
“You were going to give me your ring, your only chance of escape from Lilith… so that I’d die before I turned. I saw you, Max.”
He sneered. “I’d have done it for anyone.”
“I saw the look in your eyes when I saved Sara. You can’t deny it.”
He hesitated, then shutters came over his face, cutting off all expression. He breathed deeply and there was a charged silence.
“Max-”
“What do you want from me, Victoria? A declaration of undying adoration?”
His face was suddenly close to hers, his eyes flashing with anger and frustration. His fingers dug into her shoulders, and then he shoved her away, turning his face for a moment. Then, hands on his hips, a great space between them, he looked at her.
“All right,” he said, glaring. “I’ll say it.” His face grew even darker, burning with impatience. “I didn’t want to love you, but I can’t help it. I don’t want to be without you, but I bloody well will. Victoria, I’ll not go through this again. I’ll not risk your damned neck again. It’s the way it has to be.”
Relief seeped through her, then was replaced by annoyance and raging frustration. “You’re mad! What about Kritanu and Aunt Eustacia? Did he walk away? Did she?”
“I wish I could lock you up, and know you’d always be safe… and I know that can’t bloody well happen. But I won’t be part of it, I won’t make it any worse than it has to be. I can’t do it.” His voice was rough.
“I never took you for a coward, Max.”
“Coward?” His laugh was sharp and humorless. And a little crazy. “When it comes to risking your life, yes, yes, dammit, yes, I am. I’m a bloody damned coward.”
He spun away, slamming the door behind him. The glasses on the table rattled.
Victoria looked at the door and a slow smile pulled at her mouth. Now that she knew the truth, she was determined.
That would be the last damned time Max walked away from her.
Author’s Note
One of the best things about writing historically set novels is the ability to play with actual events and to build a story around them.
But sometimes things don’t fall into place exactly the way my plot demands, so, as an author, I take a little bit of liberty.
In When Twilight Burns, which is set during the summer of 1821, I center Lilith’s plot around the coronation of George IV, which was, as described, a great and extremely expensive event. The details about his wife, Caroline, and her attempt to attend the coronation are true (with the exception of the fact that it was Victoria and her stake that kept the queen from entering Westminster Abbey), as is the fact that she died several weeks later.
However, one thing didn’t fit into the timeline: the appearance of Comet Encke. In reality, the comet didn’t appear until a year later, in 1822. Thus, for the purpose of the story, I tweaked a little and had it appear a bit early for Victoria and her companions so as to give them a legitimate excuse for a “moonlight drive.”
The details about the toshers and the bone pickers beneath the City of London are true. The entire underground recycling industry of that time is fascinating. For anyone interested in finding out more about it, I recommend The Ghost Map by Stephen Johnson as a great starting place.
And by the way… there really is a Carmelite Abbey beneath the streets of London. Just in case you were wondering.
Colleen Gleason
March 2008